Friends: Closure

"...so obviously, I am over you. I am over YOU and that, my friend, is what they call cl-o-sure."

With this Rachel ended the call and tossed the phone into the nearby wine bucket.

"Check, please," Michael said loudly and urgently, getting the attention of their waiter.

As the patron at the next table retrieved his phone from the icy bucket, Michael helped Rachel up from the table, with apologies to the man.

They left the restaurant, both bundled up against the chill in the fall breeze. Rachel held his arm, mostly to keep in an upright position. He realized that she would never make it home on her own. He hailed a cab and as they climbed in, he asked for her address. This, she was able to remember and a short time later, they arrived at her building in the heart of Greenwich Village.

Stepping out of the cab, Rachel lost her footing and, quite ungracefully, fell to the sidewalk, landing on her butt. She shrieked and laughed with a loud exhale of air. "Lookit me... I fffell on my ass," she slurred with humor only a inebriated person would find.

Michael finished paying the cabbie, then helped her to her feet. She clumsily brushed the dirt off the back-side of her knee-length coat.

"Okay, Rachel. We're at your apartment now, " he said to her, slowly and clearly, wanting to ensure that she understood. "I'll help you upstairs and you can sleep it off."

"But I don't want to sleep it off," she protested mildly as he guided her into the foyer and up the stairs. "We can still go out and party."

"No, that's all right," he said, gently. "You've had enough partying for one evening."

Reaching the door, Rachel dug into her purse, but quickly abandoned her search. "I can't find my key... can you find my key?"

"No, no... it's okay... I need to get home anyway," he assured her. "And you've probably got things to do in the morning, too."

Even in her intoxicated state, Rachel saw through his excuses. "No, rreally. You were just a wwwonderful gentleman, and a wwwonderful restaurant, and wwwonderful wine... but I just fffucked it all to hell." Rachel's sad look soon turned to a seductive smile as an idea came to her. "Well, I can still make it up to you... how about I just give YOU a little bl-ow-job."

Michael stopped looking for her key, unsure that he heard her correctly. "Um, what?"

"A bl-ow-job," she repeated. "You know, I'll sssuck on your cockhh." She slipped between him and the door. Her fingers gripped the lapels of his jacket, partly to keep him from moving away from her, and partly to keep herself steady. "Oh, come on, Michael... lemme do this for you," she whined, then continued, feigning an air of elegance and composure, "...just as a friendly little ttthhank you for the wwwonderful e-ven-ing..."

"Look, Rachel, you've had a little to much to drink... Actually, you've had a lot to much to drink. And I don't want to take advantage of you, and I'm sure you don't want to do anything you'll regret in the morning."

"Allll-right," she interrupted him cheerily, as if not hearing his protests. "I'll sweeten the deal... a blowjob... AND you can do me... Come on, Mikey... doncha wanna jus' get between these legs and ssskhrew me?" she taunted as she ground her pelvis against his thigh. Even in her drunken state, she remembered her decision to wear a short dress and high heels to tease and entice her date. And she recalled catching his stolen looks at her legs, what she considered one of her best assets. Michael's ever so brief pause in finding her key was just long enough for Rachel to barrel on. "Tell ya what... how about I just start right now?"

With her back against the door keeping her from falling down, Rachel slowly slid to a squatting position. Before he could stammer a "no" or a "wait", she had unzipped his pants and was reaching in to retrieve the intended object of her gratitude. Her fingers slipped through the fly in his boxers and pulled it out.

Michael rifled through her purse, trying to find her key, and amazed that it was so hard to locate in the little bag. He still hoped to end this date as a gentleman, but for the life of him, he had no idea why. His frantic actions stopped instantly when he felt a warm wet sensation slide onto his cock.

"Oh god," he groaned as he looked down to see his dick inside his date's mouth. Her head was slowly swaying back and forth, though he couldn't tell how much was from the alcohol and how much was the blowjob.

He looked up and down the hallway, making sure that no one was watching this lurid thank-you. His hand went back into the purse for one last attempt at finding the door key - the one thing that would save him from public embarrassment, if someone should come up the stairs or out of a nearby apartment.

Rachel kept at her sucking, her perfectly coiffured head sliding forward and back as she serviced him. She was completely oblivious, and thoroughly uncaring, about Michael's fear of getting caught with her like that. In fact, it was almost as if Michael wasn't there, and Rachel was giving head, just to give head. Just sucking on some disembodied penis, that could have belonged to anyone, or to no one. In her actions, it seemed as though for her, sucking cock was a normal part of everyday life, like brushing her teeth or eating lunch. Like it was simply time for her daily blowjob.

The franticness of Michael's mind paid off, as he happened to notice a tiny zipped pocket on the side of the clutch. The tips of his fingers dipped inside and felt a small metal object. Relief came upon his face as he hastily pulled it out and inserted it into the lock. The swinging door removed Rachel's support. Her lips slipped off his cock as she pitched backward through the doorway and landed on her rump. "Oops!" she giggled as she sat there. Her legs splayed in a decidedly unladylike manner, giving her date a good view up her dress. As he stooped to help her up, his penis slipped back through his fly.

"Hey, where'd it go? That's my dick to lick. Hey, that rhymes," she said, laughing at her own joke. "Get it, Mikey? 'Dick to lick, dick to lick.'"

While Michael tried to help Rachel to her feet, his penis came back out, and she somehow ended up on her knees with her cheek gently being batted by his hard cock. "There it is," she mumbled happily. Then her lips glommed onto it again and her sucking resumed. She looked up at him, and a smile came upon her cock-filled lips. A little wink told him that she had already decided that indeed this would happen; Michael's protests be damned.

A mumbled moan from below chipped away at his will. He knew he should stop her, but it felt so good. Her hot wet mouth was giving sensations that he hadn't felt in far too long. His wife never enjoyed giving oral sex, and she was commensurately mediocre at it. But here, this sexy, sloshed slut clearly relished giving head. It was almost as if she lived for oral sex. The passion in her sucking and licking and bobbing and slurping was almost more than he could handle. His lust nearly exploded, wanting to grab her head and give her a solid, vigorous mouth fuck. Yet his self control, shredded as is was, still kept him from doing all the things his mind screamed at him to do.

Suddenly, Rachel stopped fellating, and wrapped her fist around his shaft, pumping the flesh up and down. Her sweet, seductive smile accompanied her words. "So what'll it be, Michael... You wanna fuckhhme...."

Rachel never considered herself one for one-night stands. Sure, she'd put out on the second or third date, but only if she felt a real connection with the guy. But right then, she honestly didn't give a fuck about any of that. The only important thing to her was getting screwed good and hard.

"Come on, I'll letcha do whatever you want... Hell, I'm so drrr-unk... you can even fuck my ass, for all I care... And I've only let one other guy do THAT to me... I think there was just one other guy... Yeah, yeah, just the one... "

"Right through here," she replied, standing, taking his hand and leading him. Her hips mustered a sexy sway. She glanced over her shoulder, giving him that alluring look.

Rachel closed the door as soon as they entered. She leaned back against it, as if to prevent him from leaving. "So how do you want me?"

Several options raced through his mind, then assembled themselves into some semblance of order.

"Lay on the bed," he directed, trying to test the waters. "...on your stomach... and face this way." Rachel strutted around the foot of her bed. With a sultry look, she climbed onto it, crawled across, and lowered herself to lay in front of him. She supported herself on her elbows, her hands forming a cradle for her chin. Her legs swung up, one after the other, bouncing playfully. "Now what Mikey?" she asked with a now-innocent demeanor. Her big bluish-green eyes looked up at him expectantly.

As an answer, Michael's long hard penis slid into her mouth. Gentle sucking sounds came from below as his hands went to the back of her head. His fingertips traced the lines of her delicate hairdo.

A few strands had fallen out of place in their activities so far, but otherwise her hair was as perfectly arranged as when they first had been seated at the restaurant earlier that evening. So beautiful; so elegant; so sexy. When she spoke after they first met, his eyes had been riveted on her lips. Those full, pouty, fill-us-with-a-cock lips. Once or twice in the evening, he'd had a brief fantasy of what it would be like to have his dick between those lips; filling that girlish mouth. And finally, now in the privacy of Rachel's bedroom, all of his opposition to roundly fucking this tipsy woman melted away with each pulsing suckle.

His hands ran recklessly through her hair, disheveling Rachel's once-immaculate coiffure. His passion grew as he reveled in the luxurious tresses, comparing it quite positively to the butch haircut that his bitchy ex-wife preferred.

With his fingers intertwined in Rachel's bobby-pinned locks, his palms flattened against the back of her head and he carefully pushed his hips forward. He was pleased to hear no muffled objection and his penis easily glided deeper until he felt Rachel's nose pressing into his abdomen. Michael groaned at the sensation enveloping his entire cock. He could barely get his ex to give him head when they were together, much less take him this deep.

Rachel hummed in satisfaction without so much a hint of gagging on the cock slowly fucking her throat. Michael smiled, wondering if it was the alcohol or simply experience that allowed this sexy woman to be so relaxed as she deep-throated his dick.

His hard cock pulled back from Rachel's mouth enough for her to resume sucking on it. He watched her legs hinging to and fro, and admired each slim thigh and toned calf in black hose as they flexed just for him. He reached out and caught one. As he held her ankle in one hand, his fingers glided down the curve of her calf and along her leg. They retraced partway, and then slid between her slightly spread thighs. Hearing no challenge, his fingertips traveled along one until he was reaching under her short skirt. Rachel purred beneath him as his hand cupped and caressed her crotch before rubbing along the length inside her other thigh.

Michael's fingers traveled this path a couple more times as he fondled his willing, albeit soused, date. On the last pass, both hands ran along Rachel's legs, and up over her ass. He enjoyed the soft satiny feel of her dress as he caressed her body on up to her shoulders. As he moved back down, he paused at the hem of her dress. Rachel felt fingertips slip beneath the tight garment, and slowly pull it up to her waist, which she aided with a slight arch to her body. Michael's hands and eyes fell on the cute round ass that he'd ogled as she had walked away from him when she had excused herself during dinner. As he moved along her tush, he realized that he felt no panties under the fabric. "Oh my god," he mumbled and his eyes rolled in appreciation of this woman and his luck.

"Turn over for me, Rachel," he said, his reservations completely gone. He pulled out and as she rolled over and repositioned herself, Michael quickly took off his pants and boxers. The inebriated beauty's eyes were closed as he directed his cock into her waiting mouth. She suckled the head as though savoring a piece of hard candy. Loud, erotic slurping sounds filled the room.

Moments later, Rachel slowly opened her eyes and looked up at the now-tight ballsack above her. Confused and concerned, she spit out the cock, and declared with drunken vigor, "Hey! Your ass is upside down! You better stand up, or you're gonna fall down."

Michael chuckled as he pushed his cock down and back into her mouth. "That's okay, Rachel. I'm good at having sex upside down. You just keep on sucking for me." Whether from satisfaction at the answer, or from forgetting her concern, the brunette wrapped her pillowy lips around the presented head and continued servicing his hard member.

He looked down at the lips and cheeks between his legs. His gaze traveled to her sculpted chin, along her perfect neck, over her still clothed body, and down her legs. Mimicking his previous motions, he reached forward, and slipped his hand between Rachel's partly splayed knees, and slowly worked upward, caressing her inner thigh until his hand could move no further. His sucking partner's legs moved a bit farther apart, as if inviting him in. His palm rested on her mound. He felt just the slightest hint of dampness as he rubbed Rachel through her opaque black hose. His middle finger worked its way slightly into the crease of an ever-moistening pussy.

Then, as if to check his assessment of his date's lingerie selection or lack thereof, Michael pulled Rachel's dress up and his fingers slid under the waistband of her hose, caressing first her toned abdomen, then moving further in. The lycra stretched over his hand and little by little he found more soft smooth skin. His fingertips soon confirmed his first conclusion when they found a groomed patch of hair. He smiled as he thought how this sexy woman had been sitting across the table from him, and the whole time she was wearing no underwear. His cock got even harder in Rachel's mouth as he wondered what she had intended. Even if she hadn't gotten so drunk, was she planning on fucking him? And if so, if she was planning on bringing him back to her apartment, why go to dinner with no panties? Did Rachel think they might hit it off, and did she make sure she'd be ready for the passion of an impromptu tryst? Maybe in a bathroom, or outside in a secluded niche among the downtown buildings? Somewhere where they could slip out of the way, she could get fucked good and hard, and just as quickly, she could have her hose and dress back in place to continue on their way or to part company.

Amid these lurid what-ifs, the word 'slut' never came to his mind, though the meaning behind that word had a major effect. Michael's hand moved deeper, until his finger wrapped down and over her hard clit and into the folds of her very wet pussy. Rachel groaned. Instilled with new lust, she grabbed onto his hips, using them for leverage to pull her head upward again and again to lip-jack his cock. He masturbated her with his finger, as she masturbated him with her mouth.

Seeing her lower body in front of him, feeling her wet slit as his other hand took in the softness of her covered thigh, he was overcome with the desire to taste her and breathe her aroma. His head moved between her thighs, and they gently clamped around it as her knees came up. His lips and tongue ran all over the damp hose that separated them from his fingers and her pussy. His lips and chin were bathed in her scent. He knew he had to have more.

Straightening up, Michael quickly worked Rachel's tights over her hips and along her thighs to her knees. The fabric stretched between them as she offered herself to him. In the instant that he took to lean back in, his mind captured the image of Rachel's naked hips, her trim thighs, the erotically taut hose, and the strip of hair with which she decorated her perfectly bald pussy lips. As he began ferociously licking her pussy, his thoughts bounced randomly among all the things he wanted to do to her; all the ways he wanted to use her proffered body. Every sexual act and position in the world fought for prominence, as his tongue created a muffled, moaned, "Oh god..." to creep out around his dick.

Rachel's head hung down off the side of the bed, and she briefly took in an inverted view of her bedroom door, just before closing her eyes to enjoy the oral attention. For Michael, the wonderful sensation of his date's mouth was replaced by the equally enjoyable feeling of her masturbating him. Her hand stroked his saliva-coated cock, as his tongue wound its way through her very wet pussy lips. He tasted her tangy-sweet pussy again and again, licking and sucking and probing. Rachel encouraged him to lick more, and deeper, and up and down, and whatever other pleasurable instruction came stumbling through her wine-fogged mind. Current sensations and past memories blurred together. She couldn't even remember if she'd ever had sex before, or individually recall with whom, but in those moments everyone who had ever licked her pussy was blended into her perception of this new lover.

Michael's tongue flicked rapidly up and down on her clitoris. "Oh gawwwwwwwd," came a deep, guttural groan that Rachel barely recognized as being her own voice. "Fuuuuckkk....," it trailed off and was replaced by a deep sharp gasp and a screamed "FUCK" as Michael delivered a quick, hard suckle to the little fold. Arms wrapped around thighs; Michael's grip was more deliberate and Rachel's more desperate, as both temporary lovers clasped the other's body.

Rachel turned her head and buried her face, not knowing that she was biting his thigh in her passion. Michael never realized how something so animal and so kinky could be so erotic and so stimulating. He was overcome with a equally carnal goal of making Rachel cum. Even if she didn't want to cum, which she did, he was determined to make her cum.

Michael pushed two fingers into her easily receptive pussy. While continuing his flicking and sucking on her clit, he rapidly masturbated the vocal minx. Her hair became more undone as her head flailed from side to side under the oral and digital assault. When Michael's tongue hit a particularly pleasing combination with his mouth and hand, Rachel gasped or uttered some expletive. Amid all the clamor of his gripping, licking, sucking and masturbating, and her writhing, screaming, groaning and biting, Rachel's orgasm hit her, hard and unexpected.

Her thighs clamped together around his head and her back arched, pushing her pussy to him. A moment later, her hips released and her body involuntarily curled under him, as if trying to pull her tender clit away from the relentless pleasure. But he would have none of that, and he gripped her lower body even tighter to keep her right where he wanted her. He licked her clit hard, over and over. "Oh god, oh god... SHIT!" she screamed. "Oh shit, Michael. Mmmmmm... uhhnnn... oh god... fuck me... godammit, fuck me... fuckme, fuckme, fuckme... god, please fuck me..."

His lingual attack on her finally relented, and he stood up. Rachel quickly moved on the bed, the room swirling, as Michael stripped off his shirt. He climbed on and as they knelt upright together, they both fumbled with the buttons that ran from the high neck of her dress down to her breast. Soon they were all undone, and he was helping her pull the short black dress up and over her head. Her breasts were held in a sexy blue bra, cut low and wide across the front. Its sparse lace pattern decorated her breasts more than hid them, as her pert nipples looked out through the see-through fabric.